You're My Someone Else
by Midnight Raptor
Summary: Traci bails last minute on some well-thought out plans, leaving Andy with no choice but to find someone else to replace her. So, who does she find? None other than a certain dark-haired T.O. of course. Sam/Andy. Set in Season 2. Chap 2, Pt. 2 up. Complete
1. Chapter 1

Status: Three-shot, Complete

Setting note: Luke and Andy aren't together in this. They were but…well, I'll explain further later in the story.

A/N: Hello again to the Rookie Blue community! It's been a while since I've written anything RB related but with the new season underway, I've gotten my inspiration back. I've actually been dying to write some RB for a while now but I haven't been able to come up with any solid ideas until now. Anyways, this is just a fun little two-shot I thought up. My last few stories have been pretty drama-heavy so I really wanted to write something fun and easy. So, here it is! Read and enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Even though I wished real hard on my birthday, I still don't own Rookie Blue. *sigh*

_You're My Someone Else_

Chapter 1

The universe was conspiring against her.

She was sure of it. Because, honestly, what other explanation was there to explain why the minute hand of the clock perched on the far wall hadn't appeared to have moved even a fraction of an inch in the duration of her one-sided staring contest with it?

Okay, so maybe there were other explanations but pinning it on the universe seemed a lot more convenient at the moment.

"Some new form of art I don't know about, McNally?"

She flinches then, jolted out of whatever trance she had fallen into by the resonating masculine voice. Turning towards it, she sees Best peering skeptically at the object in question, a complaint form speckled with tiny, gray pencil dots.

"Uh…sorry, sir. Just had a little too much coffee." It takes all her concentration to still her jittering hand although she knows that coffee has nothing to do with it.

Best seems equally unconvinced. "Right. Well, can we at least try to lay off the complaint forms? I'm sure they take enough abuse as it is."

"Yes, sir," she replies, quickly releasing the pencil.

One last questioning look is thrown her way before Best disappears into the bullpen, once again leaving her to her own devices.

She makes it through five seconds of staring after the sergeant before, almost against her will, her eyes start to wander back to the clock which, of course, looked no closer to the next hour than it had before Best arrived. Briefly, she has a fleeting thought that she probably looks slightly deranged what with her throwing desperate glances at the clock every other second. With a heaving groan, she leans forward and plants her forehead on the cool metal desk in front of her. Time really could not be moving any slower.

In the weeks leading up to this day, she had prayed that she would be assigned to desk duty for the sole purpose of not having to get tied up with some case after shift and upon hearing Best's assignments during parade that morning, had been over the moon about having her prayers answered. However, considering her current state of perpetual boredom and anxiousness, she now wishes that she was out on the streets where time most certainly did not move at a glacial pace.

A short burst of vibrations coming from her back pocket once again jerks her from her thoughts and she quickly pulls out her phone, grateful for the interruption.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Andy. It's me."

She frowns. "Traci? Why're you calling?"

"Ok, look, don't get mad but something came up."

"What happened?" she asks slowly.

Traci shifts on the other end, seemingly on edge with the situation. "Dex got into an accident after he dropped Leo off at school. Some idiot ran a red light and smashed into his side of the car."

"Oh, my God, is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine minus the broken leg. But the hospital won't release him until Sunday."

Her confusion peaks. "Okay…well, why would I be mad about—" And then it hits her. "Oh, my God…"

"I know. I'm sorry but—"

"Traci!" she hisses through her teeth. "We've been planning this for weeks!"

"Believe me, I'm just as disappointed as you are. But with Dex in the hospital, I don't have anyone to watch Leo tonight."

"What about your mom?"

"She's in Kitchener visiting her sister."

"And a babysitter?"

"Too late to call one."

_The universe really is out to get me_, she grumbles silently, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Traci, you're killing me."

There's a brief pause. "Why don't you ask Gail to go?"

"Gail? Seriously?" As much as Gail had mellowed out since getting together with Chris, the blonde was still a handful of smiles and a fewer snarky comments away from reaching Andy's list of "People I'll actually make an effort to buy decent Christmas gifts for."

"Ok, then Chris."

"I can't ask Gail's boyfriend to come to a concert with me without her. What's that gonna look like?"

Another pause, longer this time. On the other end, she can vaguely make out a PA paging a doctor.

"I'm sure you'll think of someone else," Traci says at last.

She snorts. "Like that's likely."

"Look, Andy, I gotta go. Dex's coming out of surgery. I'm really, really sorry."

"Trace—"

But the line clicks off, effectively silencing whatever attempt she would've made into guilt-tripping Traci.

"Unbelievable," she groans, pocketing the phone. Another furtive glance is snuck at the clock before she rolls her head back and slumps dejectedly in her seat.

"_I'm sure you'll think of someone else." _

She scoffs at the slight absurdity of that statement. There was no one else. Gail and Chris were definitely out of the question and she would've thought to ask Dov if it weren't for the fact that he was currently being quarantined in his apartment with a terrible stomach bug. _I really need to get other friends outside of work_.

And then she hears a familiar lilting voice filtering through the building, a voice that reminds her that there is one other person worth asking if they wouldn't mind being Traci's last-minute replacement.

With this in mind, she springs to her feet and sets out to salvage what she can of what could hopefully still be a fantastic night.

...

He all but bounces out of the interrogation room, a self-assured smile playing on his lips. His job honestly didn't get any better than this. Two hours on the streets had been spent cruising languidly around Toronto listening as Oliver recounted his adventures with Epstein from the previous day before Jerry had called from the station saying that a woman linked to one of Sam's undercover cases had come forward with some information. Fifteen minutes later, he found himself back at the station, handing Natalie West a coffee and flashing her his most reassuring smile. Apparently, she had gotten tired of having her boyfriend, Charlie Hume, one of the city's most notorious marijuana traffickers, smack her around and disappear for weeks at a time then come crawling back and lavish her with expensive "apologies." So, he sat there, listening as she rolled on Hume and several of his cronies, providing him with more than enough evidence to make a string of arrests, a fact that, if it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, would've made him break out into a grin right then and there.

Yes, today was shaping up to be a very good day.

He exchanges a few words with Jerry about getting Natalie set up with Witness Protection before hurrying away, eager to get back to the car.

But he doesn't quite make it out the door.

"Hey, Sam!"

It's a testament to their friendship that he knows who it is without having to turn around.

"McNally," he greets her, continuing on through the station as she comes up next to him.

"Are you, uh…are you doing anything tonight?"

"Depends." He shoots her cocky grin. "Do you want me to be doing anything tonight?"

He doesn't see it but the brief pause lets him know that she's just rolled her eyes at his antics. "I need a favor."

"Uh-huh…"

She hesitates slightly before speaking. "Me and Traci are supposed to go to a concert tonight. But her ex got into an accident this morning and now he's in the hospital with a broken leg so Traci doesn't have anyone to watch Leo. Her mom would but she's out of town with—"

He stops walking and turns to face her. "What does this have anything to do with me?"

"Willyougowi'me?"

He blinks. _Wasn't expecting that…_

"I can't just not go because the tickets cost a fortune and we've been dying to go to this concert for weeks and I can't go by myself because I mean, who does that?" she continues in seemingly one quick breath. "So…please?"

She's wearing a look of sheer desperation, something that he finds much too comical to simply not tease a bit further.

"I don't know…" he sighs, making a show of acting burdened by her request. "Getting drunk and watching Law & Order reruns all night sounds awfully tempting."

She gapes, incredulous. "C'mon, really? Everything's all paid for and the seats are fantastic. There's no down side."

He considers his distressed partner who has just resorted to very un-Andy-like hand wringing and fights a smile. _This is just too much fun_.

"It's tonight?"

"8:00, yeah."

The slightly evil side of him tortures her for several more seconds before he finally decides to put her out of her misery.

"Alright, I'm in."

Immediately, her face lights up and for a moment, she almost looks ready to hug him, not that he would've minded. "Thank you so much, Sam," she says as she retreats back down the hall.

He shakes his head and finally allows himself a smile. "The things I do for you, McNally."

...

She's beginning to think that clocks weren't invented to tell time but to torture anxious wrecks like her instead. As it is, she's been alternating between watching the clock and watching the entrance to the men's locker room for the past 10 minutes.

Shift had ended a while ago, something that could not have come any slower if it tried, and it was all she could do not to hunt Sam down on the streets and drag him back to the station once the 5:00 hour rolled around. Four calls to his phone had gone unanswered before he deemed it appropriate to pick up, at which point Andy had nearly reached the end of her frayed nerves.

"_Sam! Where are you? We need to leave by 6!" _

"_Relax, Andy, I'm three minutes out."_

"_Okay, well, just get here, okay?"_

"_I'll get you to your concert, don't worry."_

Sure enough, Sam and Oliver rolled into the station shortly after where they were met in the garage by Andy who all but chased her partner into the locker room as Oliver's raucous laughter filled their ears.

That had been 30 minutes ago and she now has half the mind to go marching into the men's room to see if he had drowned in the shower. Of course, she knows that she should be grateful that Sam even agreed to go with her but that agreement would be for nothing if they didn't make it to the concert on time.

The locker room door swings open then revealing a freshly showered Sam with his duffel slung around a shoulder.

"Finally," she says, jumping to her feet. "I thought you died in there or something."

He seems to stall momentarily as he comes closer, his eyes widening just so, giving him the look of someone who had just been clocked on the back of the head but he recovers from whatever had come over him in the next second and replies, "Two of the showers are out."

She raises an eyebrow questioningly when he rubs his neck, noting how he had been quick to avert his eyes away from her. _He's acting weird._

"Well, we should get going," she says instead.

"Right. Yeah."

She shoulders her purse then reaches for her backpack only to have her attempt blocked by Sam who picks up the bag with his free hand.

He shoots her a grin. "Let's rock n' roll."

His pun earns him a short laugh which quickly dispels whatever weirdness had existed just moments ago before they head out to the parking lot.

* * *

><p>AN: A bit of a slow start but I promise the Sam/Andy action picks up in Part 2. And I'll explain why Sam acted the way he did when he saw her. I'm keeping who's playing at the concert Andy's so desperate to see a secret for now but I have to say I'm living a little vicariously through Andy in this story as I'd die to go to this particular concert. XD Also, kudos if you can spot the Lost reference I threw in there haha.

A little tease for what's to come: a ridiculously fan girl-y Andy, a slightly jealous and disgruntled Sam, an appearance by two of my favorite bands, and a song that catches Sam's attention despite it not being his type at all.

So, please do leave me a line or two of your thoughts. I always love hearing them. I'll get Part 2 up as soon as I can. :)


	2. Chapter 2, Pt 1

Rating change for some brief language.

A/N: Wow! First of all, thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews and to everyone who's put this on their alerts and favorites. I don't think I've ever gotten a response like this and I appreciate it immensely.

Secondly, my sincerest apologies for taking this long to post this. Summer classes (statistics, yuck) have been kicking my ass and I saw Harry Potter Thursday night (and had to miss RB) so my brain is in shambles so I've been writing whenever I can manage. But it's longer than the first chapter so I hope that makes up for it.

Thirdly, and most important, it's due to those two facts that I've decided to extend this to a three-shot. Chapter 2 was originally supposed to be the last but I decided to split it in two and post what I had written so far instead of keeping you all waiting another week or so for me to completely finish this. So here's part one of Chapter 2. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: All I own is this scene. Also, I'm not from Toronto or Canada so excuse any technical errors I might have made about the Air Canada Centre. XD

Chapter 2, Pt. 1

He's decided that he's never taking Andy out ever again.

Never mind that going to this concert technically wasn't him taking her out. Never mind that he's completely head-over-heels in love with her. Never mind the fact that he knows he'll break this promise to himself in about 30 seconds when he reconsiders how absurd it is. Never mind all of that.

Because tonight was the first and only time he would ever be taking out Andy McNally.

It wasn't because she was a poor conversationist. Or because she was one of those clingy types who couldn't unglue themselves from him for more than a few seconds. Or because she was a vapid narcissist with those fake, high pitched laughs that made him want to hit himself with a brick. Hell, it wasn't even because she was ugly.

Because she wasn't. At all.

And therein lay the problem.

Because taking out someone who's relatively okay-looking was fairly simple. You could focus on important things like holding doors open for her or asking about her hobbies and interests or remembering that when you walk her to her door at the end of the night, it was her call as to whether or not she invited you up.

All of which seemed to fail men when out with women like Andy. Women who could be so damn infuriating at times with their obliviousness as to what they did to innocent, hot-blooded men.

And goddamn was she oblivious.

It was unfair, really. One look at her when he had stepped out of the locker room and he knew he was in for one tonight. Because instead of the Andy that had met him and Oliver in the garage not 30 minutes ago still clad in her uniform or even the off-duty Andy that he had grown accustomed to who loved a good pair of jeans and tank top, a completely different woman met his gaze. He barely registered her exasperated words as she stood to greet him, noting instead how her perfectly toned legs seemed to go on for miles before disappearing under the fabric of her dress. It was a simple, black number stopping just short of her mid-thighs where it flowed elegantly around her. She took a step towards him and the clicks of her three-inch heels echoed sharply throughout the silent bullpen. Her long, brown hair spilled in soft waves about her shoulders and he finds himself wondering how'd they feel beneath his fingers. But what really did it in for him was her eyes. Because really, he's seen her in much more revealing clothing from the several undercover stings she's been on that required less than modest attire. But he had never seen her eyes as dark and smoky as they were then, a look that set his heart in overdrive and momentarily severed all connection from his brain to the rest of his body.

He grips the steering wheel even tighter then, willing himself to focus on something, anything but the ridiculously gorgeous woman sitting in the seat next to him who's completely and utterly unaware of the struggles going on in his head. He's dead certain there's a rule against this. What was it called? Cruel and unusual punishment? Right. That one.

Still, he somehow manages to keep it together all the way to the Air Canada Centre, engaging in easy conversation with Andy who can barely contain her excitement at finally being on the way. Usually, the ride to the Centre is a quick, 15 minute trip from the station but the thousands flocking to the concert have turned the ride into a 45 minute mess of weaving in and out of stop-and-go traffic and circling endlessly around the streets to find a place to park.

It isn't until their fifth circle around the block that he finds a spot big enough to fit his behemoth of a truck and they clamber out, grateful to stretch their legs. It's a cool spring night in the city, the sun having just set over the horizon, and for the first time since seeing her at the station, he finally allows himself to relax somewhat in her presence.

They walk briskly to the Centre, joining the crowd of people converging on the building. She stays closer to his side as the crowd thickens, her bare arms brushing lightly against his, and despite all his better judgment, he finds himself sneaking sidelong glances her way.

"If I'd known you were dressing up, I would've put a little more effort myself," he comments, having gotten tired of ignoring the elephant in his brain.

"What?" She looks at him and gives his gray t-shirt and jeans a distracted once-over. "Oh. No, that's fine. Traci and I just wanted to dress up a bit 'cause…well…never mind."

His eyebrows climb his forehead. "'Never mind?' What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means forget it."

"Uh-uh. Not that easy. C'mon, you dragged me away from quality time at the Penny. The least you can do is tell me why you got all gussied up tonight."

She almost looks embarrassed at his statement and he can't help but smirk when she nervously smoothes back her hair, a gesture that's so uniquely Andy. "Well…we're gonna be real close to the stage and…and they're gonna be right there so…" She trails off in a mutter, careful not to look his way.

He's silent for a moment, not quite knowing what the band had anything to do with Andy pulling out all the stops. And then it clicks. "You dressed up for the _band_?"

Her cheeks immediately flush a deep crimson and she mutters something that sounded vaguely like, "Only a little."

Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, a knot of jealousy and disappointment forms but he knows he can't even begin to justify it. _Well, of course it wasn't for you, idiot. You weren't even part of the plan until this morning. After she packed the clothes. _

"Hey, whatever floats your bloat," he finally says with a light shrug, pushing the green-eyed monster as far back as it'll let him.

For a moment, she looks about ready to defend herself but thinks better of it and says nothing, her face still burning.

They continue walking, Andy hurrying slightly ahead of him. He realizes then that she's never actually told him just who she's so excited to see. He opens his mouth to ask her just that when a massive poster draped across the front of the Centre catches his eye.

He freezes.

"You have got to be kidding me."

She stops, turning to face him. "What?"

"A boy band? That's who you're dragging me off to see?"

"Maroon 5 is not a boy band," she retorts defensively.

He eyes the band members printed on the giant poster. "Andy, my nephew looks older than them."

"Is your nephew 30 years old?"

To this, he has nothing to say. He knows he's being a little dramatic but this wasn't exactly what he had imagined when she had said "concert."

Stepping closer, she looks earnestly up at him. "C'mon, Sam. They're amazing, I promise."

He holds her gaze for a moment. Who was he kidding? She could've taken him to a damn petting zoo and he still would've gone along with it. He couldn't walk out on her even if he wanted to. Defeated, he sighs and offers her a quick nod, silently promising himself that Oliver and Jerry would never be hearing about this.

She beams and takes his hand in hers, which effectively causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach, before dragging him into the building.

"You're lucky I like you, McNally," he mutters as he allows himself to be led away.

...

"I really am the only guy here."

They're sitting in the arena, watching as the rest of the Centre filled with the thousands of other concert goers, whom he's just about certain consisted of 99.99% female. Regardless of his misgivings, however, he has to admit that they really do have fantastic seats. The stage was only about 50 feet away and while the general admissions ticket holders were tightly packed in a sweaty mess in the restricted area right in front of the stage, he and Andy were seated quite comfortably in the first row of the floor seats, something that had nearly caused Andy to faint dead away upon reaching.

She swats at his arm. "No, you're not."

"Yeah? Show me another," he challenges, albeit rather playfully.

"Fine." Twisting in her seat, she scans the floor, searching for another member of the opposite gender. "Those guys over there. See?"

He follows her gaze to a lanky fellow sporting a short, blue Mohawk who had a hand slipped quite intimately into the back pocket of his companion's jeans and lets out a short chuckle. "Not that I have anything against it but they're not exactly my type."

Realizing what he meant, she flushes slightly. "Ok, well, I'm sure there are other guys here too. They're just…not here yet."

"Whatever you say, Andy," he says, dimples flashing. "Whatever you say."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything more, instead taking the moment to send a text to Traci who he knows she was giving minute-by-minute updates to.

They spend a few minutes sitting in companionable silence as the rumbling of the Centre steadily increases. Eventually, more guys do start to appear, many being dragged by women in various levels of excitement which Andy is only more than happy to point out to him. His empathy went out to them. The seats on Andy's left are taken by two young women who immediately engage her in an animated conversation. Between giggles and impatient fidgeting, she manages to introduce him to her new friends, Kate and Gemma. The women question them for a while about being cops before the conversation steers back to the concert and he takes this as his cue to once again lapse into silence although he can't help but hear his name popping up several times in the conversation.

The buzzing around them quickly reaches deafening proportions as they approach the start of the concert, practically electrifying the air, and he can't help himself when he starts to feel that anticipation as well. It's been a long time since he's been to a concert, having went frequently when he was younger, but he remembers what it feels like to be right there in the presence of your music idols. At last, the lights begin to dim and an announcer's voice echoes throughout the arena, introducing the night's opening act. Beside him, Andy had risen to her feet and joined in with the cheering so he follows suit, hollering with the rest of them. Having the aisle seat, he's suddenly grateful for the extra space since it means that he's free of another screaming female on his right.

A moment later, the band finally takes the stage, a group Andy had told him as she was pulling him into the Centre was called One Republic, and the crowd roars with delight. As the lead singer strides up to the mic, he's struck by just how close they really are. Andy hadn't been kidding. Giving up these seats was just out of the question.

After the frontman says a few words of introduction and thanks, the concert is underway. Throughout the first song, he has a nagging feeling that he's heard them before though it isn't until the fourth that he finally places it. Despite his reservations, he finds himself getting into the music, which didn't seem at all that bad. They're definitely a lot different from what he's used to, what with him being a classic rock junkie who didn't care much for the modern mainstream, but he enjoys himself nonetheless. Every so often, he sneaks a glance at Andy to find her either singing along or chattering excitedly with Kate and Gemma. She catches his eye a few times, smiling shyly when she does, and he swears he sees her blush at least once.

Eventually, the set draws to a close and after the final song, the band takes their leave to the appreciative applause of the crowd.

As the echoes from the guitars and bass finally fade, Andy turns to him, her arms overhead, stretching out her back, and a wide grin fixed on her face.

"They were awesome, weren't they?"

"Yeah, they were pretty good," he admits, smiling softly at her enthusiasm.

A man walks by just then balancing two cups and several hotdogs, its delicious scent wafting past. Glancing at Andy, he sees her eyes following the man.

"You hungry? Want anything from the concession stand?"

"A hotdog would be fantastic. And a beer. Oh, and a pretzel." Catching his raised eyebrow, she adds rather sheepishly, "Please."

"Have you not eaten all day?"

"I wasn't exactly thinking about food today."

_The lengths women will go to… _"Hotdog, pretzel, and beer coming right up."

"I'll come with you. I need to go to the restroom anyway."

Scooping up her heels, which she had removed sometime during the set, she slips them on then follows after him.

With the intermission in full swing, the crowd on the floor is a thick, confusing heap, all trying to get some food and use the restrooms before the headlining act began. Without thinking, he takes her hand and leads her through the sea of people. He tells himself it's because he doesn't want her to get separated from him but deep down he knows it's just an excuse. Hell, he'll take anything at this point.

He leaves her by the ladies' room and falls in line at the concession stand which, gratefully, isn't too long.

"You got dragged into this too?" a voice asks a couple minutes later.

He turns to see man a few years younger than him standing in the other line. "Literally."

The man nods knowingly. "You know, I bought these tickets for my girlfriend's birthday. Thought she'd take one of her friends with her. You know, for a girls' night out or whatever. Me and the guys would head for the lake for the weekend. Leave the ladies to do their own thing. Instead, she asks me to go." He stuffs his fists in his pockets and smiles lightly. "So, here I am. Well on my way to premature hearing loss and insurance that the guys won't ever let me live it down."

Sam lets out a short laugh. "I feel you, brother. I think some chick behind me blew out my eardrums."

"You in the pit?"

"Floor seats, first row."

"Man, wait 'til Maroon 5 takes the stage. It'll be the last thing you ever hear," the man says. "Your girl must love you for this, huh?"

He doesn't answer but allows a small smile to grace his lips. _She's not my girl yet_.

"Ah well," his companion goes on, shrugging with a slightly lopsided grin. "The things we do for the women we love, right?"

"Yeah," he replies quietly as thoughts of Andy swim through his head.

Up ahead, the customer in the line next to him was finishing her order.

The man turns back to him. "Well, good luck to you, uh…?"

"Sam," he supplies, offering a hand.

They shake. "Andrew."

"Good luck yourself, Andrew."

With that, Andrew steps forward to the counter, leaving him to continue waiting for his turn while replaying the conversation again in his head.

...

Walking out of the ladies' room, she makes a mental note to avoid the restroom during intermissions. The line was horrendous.

Not that she planned on going to any more concerts any time soon. This one alone had blown nearly two months' rent, a price she just couldn't repeat no matter how much she wanted to, but considering that she would probably never get another opportunity like this, she knew she just couldn't pass it up.

And boy was it worth it.

Feeling the need to share her joy with Traci through something more than a text, she pulls out her phone and dials her best friend.

She picks up on the second ring.

"Oh, my God, how was it?"

"Fantastic. God, Traci, I can't believe you're not here."

"Neither can I," Traci deadpans. "I'm gonna kill Dex when he gets out of the hospital."

"I thought the accident wasn't his fault."

"It wasn't. I just feel slightly less guilty killing my ex rather than a stranger."

She chuckles and takes a seat at a table by the windows to wait for Sam.

"So? Details!" Traci all but screams into the phone.

"I don't know if I can…" she sighs dramatically. "This is just too awesome to put into words."

"Oh, come on, Andy. I'm stuck watching _Toy Story 3 _for the millionth time. Have some pity."

On the other end, she hears Leo's joyful laughter and smiles. "Well, the seats were definitely worth it. I almost caught Ryan's hat when he threw it but someone behind me got it instead," she says in reference to the lead singer.

Traci lets out a short laugh of victory. "There is justice in the world. How'd they sound?"

"Pretty awesome actually. They got a little screechy during 'Apologize' but other than that they were solid."

"Hmm… — Leo, sweetie, don't wipe your hands on your shirt— how's Sam, by the way?"

At this, she glances at the line at the concession stand and sees him at the counter, unable to help herself when her eyes start to wander freely over his well-built form. "He's fine." Her cheeks start to burn at her double entendre and she's grateful that Traci can't see her at the moment. "He was a little weird at the station before we left though."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, he just walked out of the locker room and kinda looked like someone hit him over the head with a baseball bat when he saw me."

There's a pregnant pause. "Huh."

She frowns. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Traci says mildly.

"Oh, and he totally called me out on dressing up."

A smirk. "I bet he was jealous."

"You would think that," she answers, rolling her eyes. Ever since she and Luke broke up two months ago, Traci had been not-so-subtly nudging her towards Sam despite all of her rather half-hearted attempts of telling her that she wasn't ready yet. _Bull. Shit, McNally. _

"Fine don't believe me. But everyone knows he has it bad for you."

Why was everyone so keen on reading into what she and Sam were to each other? First Kate and Gemma refusing to believe that Sam was nothing more than her partner and that she dragged him to this concert purely because she didn't have anyone else to ask (okay, so maybe she did have other reasons for asking him) and now Traci. But before she can tell Traci that Sam Swarek felt no such thing (because if he did then why hadn't he done something about it by now?), she catches sight of the very object of their conversation out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, he's back. With food," she adds as if she needs to clarify. "I'll call you as soon as we get out, okay?"

"I really hate you right now, you know?"

She smirks. "Yeah, I know. See you, Trace."

Flipping her phone shut, she looks up as Sam approaches and her eyes narrow faintly.

"You look happy."

"Am I not allowed to be happy?" he replies as he sets down the tray laden with food.

"You're allowed. You just seemed so against it when we got here."

He takes a swig of his beer and grins. "Change of heart."

She watches him for a moment, trying to figure out what she's missing, but gives up and starts on her hotdog when he doesn't elaborate.

* * *

><p>AN: Thoughts? Andy's fangirl freak out and the song by Maroon 5 that gets Sam thinking about a few things will be in Part 2 of Chapter 2 so rest assured, they are coming. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you think and I'll post the final chapter as soon as I can. :)

And if you want to see the dress (well, at least part of it) that Andy's wearing, check out my profile for the link. I found a really pretty shot of Missy in this black spaghetti strap. I found a picture of her make up too but I lost it haha.


	3. Chapter 2, Pt 2

A/N: Late, late, late. I know and I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. But I'm finally back with this last chapter which was an excellent reminder of why I haven't done a song-fic in years; they're bloody exhausting. A little heads up: not much Sam/Andy interaction in the first half since it's mainly Sam's musings. Anyways, I hope my struggles were worth it and that you enjoy this. It's a long one. :)

Disclaimer: Since I don't own Rookie Blue, I guess writing fanfiction will just have to suffice. And the song I use belongs to its rightful owner, a band I would also love to own but very tragically, don't.

Chapter 2, Pt. 2

"Come _on_, Sam! Hurry _up_!"

"Jeez, McNally, where's the fire?"

"I'm gonna set you on fire if you don't chug the rest of that beer."

He looks at her standing in front of him, arms folded across her chest, and fights a smile. For some reason, he's always found a slightly irritated Andy adorable. But he knows better than to push her any further especially considering the fact that she seems completely capable of delivering on her threat at the moment. Getting to his feet, he just manages to drain the last of his beer and set the glass back on the table before a hand grabs his own and proceeds to drag him back to the arena floor, something that he was growing quite used to as the night wore on.

They get back to their seats but remain standing as the rest of the floor seemed to all be on their feet. The buzzing is louder this time, he notices, and the air is practically alive with anticipation, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end in spite of himself. Beside him, Andy was all but bouncing off the walls as she, Kate, and Gemma share anxious giggles of delight, barely able to contain themselves.

For the second time that night, the lights begin to dim and the buzzing escalates to a steady rumbling, cheers and claps filling the air. From the massive speakers mounted in every possible direction, the announcer's voice echoes through the arena, asking the crowd to welcome the headlining band. Backlights light up the stage. The band walks on.

And all hell breaks loose.

For a moment, he honestly thinks that his ears have exploded. It just didn't seem possible for humans to be able to hear at that frequency and volume. And the ground is _shaking_. Honest-to-God shaking. Like if he ever had the misfortune of being caught in an earthquake, this is what he'd expect to feel.

When he realizes that he actually hasn't gone deaf, he becomes aware of a shrill shrieking coming from his left which has oddly distinguished itself from the thousand others that reverberate through the Centre. He turns, fully expecting to see some crazed fan from the row behind him screaming in his ear, and for a split second, that's exactly what he thinks he's looking at. And then he takes in her soft, dark hair, black dress, and endless legs and it hits him.

Andy.

Andy going ape-shit crazy.

Thoughts have never failed him like how they do at that moment. So, he stands there, at a complete loss, staring at the woman he thought was his partner but honestly doesn't even recognize now.

She's screaming at the top of her lungs, arms thrown wildly overhead. "Adam, I love you!"

As mesmerized as he is by this side of her that he's never seen before, he turns sharply to look at the stage when those words leave her mouth and his gaze lands on a man dressed in jeans and a white v-neck with heavily tattooed arms standing at the edge of the stage.

"How's it going, Toronto?" he asks into the mic.

The screaming intensifies, including Andy's and he has a sudden overwhelming urge to beat the lights out of this Adam guy.

The frontman laughs at his response and when he tries again to get a word in, he's quickly drowned out by the echoing roar of his adoring fans.

Back on his left, Andy has now resorted to bouncing on the balls of her feet, arms waving frantically at the stage. And she's still screaming his name.

_Someone shoot me_, he begs silently. If he ever doubted Andrew's words about this band before, he certainly doesn't now.

Eventually, the crowd (and Andy) calms down enough for the frontman to get a few more sentences out, introducing his bandmates and thanking the crowd for showing up, before the music begins and the screaming is reduced to much more tolerable levels. This, however, does little to improve his feelings towards the frontman so he stands there, thinking that maybe if he glares at the man long enough, he might just spontaneously combust. He spends the first few minutes like this, firmly resolved on hating the guy, not caring how petty it sounds. But unfortunately for him, what he doesn't count on is just how damn catchy the songs are and all it takes is Andy flashing him one of her mega-watt smiles for him to grudgingly give up his silent vendetta and give in to the music.

Once again, they're light years away from anything that he's used to but considering what he'd been expecting, they're actually not that bad. So he temporarily forgets about the frontman and his current unyielding grasp on Andy's attention and makes an honest attempt to enjoy himself. Which, as it turns out, isn't too hard when there's very little about the band to actually hate, all competition for Andy's affections aside.

An hour later and he's nearly completely allowed himself to let bygones be bygones after seeing Andy break out into the widest grin he's ever seen during the second intermission. If she was happy then that's all that mattered. Hell, he'd sit through a hundred more concerts if it meant he'd helped in putting that smile on her face.

Up on the stage, the band had just finished another song, an up-beat number about moving like Mick Jagger or something to that effect, and was preparing for the next. In stark contrast to the fast-paced drums and keyboard that had been dominating much of the set, the slower, softer sounds of a solo guitar being plucked now fills the Centre as the song begins.

_Beauty queen of only eighteen_  
><em>She had some trouble with herself<em>  
><em>He was always there to help her<em>  
><em>She always belonged to someone else<em>

It's one he recognizes as having heard once or twice before but never really paid attention to since it never was his thing anyway. This time, however, he has nothing else to keep him occupied and he can't help himself when the lyrics start painting images of a certain rookie in his head.

Andy McNally.

Where does he even begin with her?

It's been nearly a year since she literally came barging into his life, busting his cover and blowing the operation of his career. He remembers that day just as clearly as he remembers Sarah's wedding or the birth of his niece and nephew. He remembers her wide-eyed look of apprehension as she trained her gun on his chest, the way she swayed slightly from side to side, trying to decide whether or not she should just take him and Pedro on right there. He remembers her voice, jumpy and shrill, commanding him to follow her orders, her hesitation with every move she made evident as she went solo for the first time.

She's come a long way since then. They both have. And in that year, he watched as she grew as an officer, as a protector of the peace, something that didn't come at a fair price. She's different now. Stronger, braver, and smarter, sure. But her walls are just as solid as they were before and she's nowhere near letting others in easy, a testament to the toll this job has taken on her. He knows he doesn't always let it show but he remembers what it was like to be a rookie, to feel like you could never prove that you were cut out for this job and she's had her share of troubles as well.

He saw her through it all. The first time she took part in a sting and screwed it up, the first time she felt the cold barrel of a gun against her skin, the first time an innocent bystander died in her arms, the first time she killed someone. He was there and at her side every time even when she was too stubborn to admit she needed someone.

But it never should've been him. Not really. He was her partner and she was his rookie and God knows he would do anything for her but she wasn't his to console. She was Callaghan's and he constantly had to remind himself of that. Even now two months after they had broken up, he still can't completely shake thoughts of her with the blond detective out of his head as much as it kills him to do so.

_I drove for miles and miles_  
><em>And wound up at your door<em>  
><em>I've had you so many times<em>  
><em>but somehow I want more<em>

The crowd is singing along in full force now, causing the lyrics to echo even louder around him, and the corners of his mouth tug into an ironic smile.

Hardly anyone would ever picture him to be, except those who knew otherwise, but he was a notorious player when he was young. Girls swooned over him, his infectious dimples and perfected Swarek charm simply proving to be too much to resist, a fact that he loved and Oliver and Jerry hated. He dated girls left and right, never settling for too long before moving on to the next. Not wanting to be the bad guy, he always made it clear that he wasn't serious and for the most part, neither were they. He was young and having fun, an eager rook quick to flash his badge and uniform to impress the ladies and he loved every minute of it.

Until he didn't. Until he decided, shortly before he turned 30, that a different girl every other month just wasn't for him anymore. So he settled down some. He stopped serial dating, hooking up with random girls he and the guys met at the Penny; he even took up working the night shift for a few months so that he had an excuse not to go trolling for women. Eventually, he had a steady girlfriend for a while, a cute barista he met when securing a burglary one day, and he was happy. But she wanted a family and he didn't, not yet at least, so they ended it. He bounced around a little after that but with hardly the energy he had when he was a rookie. Instead, he worked, jumping at the spot in Guns and Gangs when it opened up, and at the time, he was content to live for his job.

And then he met Andy. If you had told him that day when she busted him and Pedro that he would fall head-over-heels in love with her, he would've laughed at the absurdity of it all. Regardless of how the air had been sucked out of his lungs upon first seeing her, she was a rookie and a pretty clueless one at that. But he had misjudged her that first day and he soon found himself unable to keep thoughts of her out of his head.

And now here they are, in a position he never thought they'd be in just a year ago. He's been her training officer and partner, confidant and friend. He's picked her up when she was too drunk to drive or too tired to walk, held her when she collapsed in his arms and when she fought to get out of them. And he'd be lying if he said that's all he ever wants to be.

But he knows it isn't that simple. Ever since the blackout, he's spent his time drawing a line, a line that clearly distinguished what they were to each other; partners by day, friends by night. He hates it, goddamn does he hate it. But she chose Callaghan and he was tired of constantly dancing around her and whatever that undefined thing between them was. And so everyday he busts his ass to not cross that line and everyday it gets a little harder not beyond that line he's not her partner or her friend. He's something else entirely. And he's not quite sure that she's willing to let him be that. Not yet, at least.

_Tap on my window, knock on my door  
>I want to make you feel beautiful<br>I know I tend to get so insecure  
>It doesn't matter anymore<em>

Sometimes he thinks about how different things would've been if she had chosen him first. Sure, there's the fact that they would've had to keep it a secret, at least until she got cut loose, but aside from that, the "what ifs" float tantalizingly in his head just beyond his grasp.

He never would've made Callaghan's mistakes. First of putting his job before Andy and second of sleeping with his ex. The moment he found out about Andy calling off the engagement and why, it had taken every fiber of self-control he possessed not to storm into Callaghan's office and beat his head into the ground. The man was an idiot. An oblivious, thick-headed idiot who didn't have a clue of what was right in front of him and even though his mistakes were probably the best things to have ever happened to Sam, they had simply broken Andy even further, a fact that made his blood boil and his heart ache.

No, he definitely wouldn't have made Callaghan's mistakes. Andy deserved better than that. She deserved someone who didn't take her for granted, someone who made her feel beautiful in every way that mattered and he would've done just that. He would've shown her exactly what she meant to him with no ands, ifs, buts, or ors about it. He would've made it clear that nothing mattered more to him than her, not his job, not his reputation, not his life. He would've loved her, cherished her for every second of every day and he would've known that he was the luckiest man in the world to do so.

But she hadn't chosen him first, not by a long shot, and now they're both trying to figure out what the hell to do with themselves now that her choice had gone and blown up in her face.

_It's not always rainbows and butterflies_  
><em>It's compromise that moves us along, yeah<em>  
><em>My heart is full and my door's always open<em>  
><em>You come anytime you want<em>

She's never exactly told him this but he knows that the reason she has such a hard time letting people in, the reason she chose Callaghan is because she doesn't want to get hurt. On paper, the blond detective was perfect. Smart, charming, handsome, and a solid cop. But most importantly, he was reliable. There was no mystery when it came to him, no question as to what he wanted in life. He was a detective through and through and he certainly had no plans of going anywhere.

Which was something that couldn't be said for Sam. He was flighty, never wanting to be tied down for too long to one thing, a trait that had always governed his actions both on the job and in his personal life. He lived for the excitement, the thrill of the chase and they both knew it was only a matter of time before Guns and Gangs knocked on his door and asked him to disappear once more.

And that was exactly what she didn't want. She wanted safe and simple and he wasn't that. She had gone with Callaghan thinking that things would be easy with him because she was tired of being left behind and with Callaghan maybe she wouldn't have to be.

But if there's one thing he wishes she would understand it's that you can't always get what you want. It can't always be easy or simple or perfect no matter who you were with. And even if it was then what the hell kind of relationship would that be?

So he may not be Callaghan and he can't promise her safe. He can't promise that there won't be tears or heartbreak or that the next time Guns and Gangs showed up at his door, he'd provide them with a very colorful place as to where they could stick his new fake ID. But what he can promise is that he'll fight for her, for them, and for everything in between because he won't be making the mistake that so many others had made before. He'd be in it for the long haul and even if she can't trust herself with that just yet, she can trust him because he knows that there won't ever be anyone else.

_I know where you hide alone in your car  
>Know all of the things that make you who you are<br>I know that goodbye means nothing at all  
>Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls<br>_

It'd probably send her running for the hills if she knew but he's been able to see right through her walls since the beginning. For most of her life, she's tried to cover up her past, thinking that if she kept all of it hidden and buried in the deepest parts of her where no one was ever allowed then maybe she'd somehow manage to leave it all behind.

She could be Andy McNally, the headstrong, independent rising cop who wasn't any more damaged than the next guy, not the rookie from a broken family trying to carve a way out from under the shadow of her father's troubles and for her, that distinction made all the difference.

But despite her best efforts, her barriers aren't as impenetrable as she thinks they are.

Because he knows about her mother and how she abandoned her only child in the middle of the night without a second glance back. He knows about her father and the way he crawled into a bottle in an attempt to understand why his wife would leave him to raise their 12 year old daughter alone. He knows about her fears of being left behind, of having to fall with no one there to catch her when she did. But most importantly, he knows about how she dealt with all of that, how she decided that the only way she could control when anything ended was if she was the one doing the leaving. She couldn't bear to go through what her mother had made her go through all those years ago again so she figured that if her mother could run then so could she and she's been running ever since.

He also knows that that's exactly why he's in the position he's in now. Ever since they first met, she's kept him at arms' length away, her walls ensuring that he never got close enough to completely undo her. But she's human and every once in a while when working the streets gets particularly hard or when the ghosts of her past come back to haunt her, her walls start to crumble ever so slightly and in those moments, he sees the scared young girl who was forced to grow up too soon staring back at him. She breaks and starts to fall, her defenses stripped bare by the cruelties of her job and life, and he's always been there to catch her when she did. Even when she was with Callaghan and the blond idiot was actually there for her, there were times when she still turned to Sam because there were just some things that only partners could understand and because maybe deep down she knew only Sam could give her what she really needed.

But those moments never last very long and when she realizes what she's done, that she's just allowed him to see a part of her that he was never meant to see, it ends as soon as it began. She panics and scares and pushes him back behind the line they were just flirting with until he's back in comfortable territory, in that safe, little space where he's just her partner and friend and he can't hurt her if he ever left.

It's a process he's more than familiar with as much as it tears him apart. Because he knows it's only a matter of time before it starts all over again. Before her walls come crashing down around her and she needs someone to break her fall. And he'll be right there beside her when she does because even if she still pushes him away, he's her partner and he'll always have her back.

_I don't mind spending everyday_  
><em>Out on your corner in the pouring rain<em>  
><em>Look for the girl with the broken smile<em>  
><em>Ask her if she wants to stay awhile<em>  
><em>And she will be loved<em>  
><em>And she will be loved<em>  
><em>And she will be loved<em>  
><em>And she will be loved<em>  
><em>Please don't try so hard to say goodbye<em>  
><em>Please don't try so hard to say goodbye<em>

With a final pluck from the guitar, the song finally ends and overzealous screams immediately erupt from the crowd, something that he would've detested just over an hour ago but now just can't even bring himself to mind. Rather, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from the beautiful creature standing next to him, her arms still flailing wildly in the air. She turns then, glancing over her shoulder to look at him, and his eyes meet hers for the first time since the band took the stage.

It's the happiest he's seen her in a long time, with that exhilarated smile still spread wide across her face, and he finds himself wishing for the moment to never end. Because right now she isn't trying to outrun her demons or keep him at arms' length away and for her, these moments come few and far between.

He smiles back and it's then that he knows that he would gladly spend the rest of his life doing anything to keep her smiling like that. Because he doesn't want good-bye, not when they've come this far and screwed up this much. What he wants is her, all of her but she needs to let him in and she can't do that when she's trying so hard to push him away. Of course, he gets she's scared of trying this again, of putting her heart on the line one more time. But hell, he is too and after everything that's happened, they owe it to themselves to figure this out because they've danced around it long enough and they can't keep doing it forever.

So she may not be quite ready to move forward with him just yet but he'll wait for as long as it takes until she is because she's worth it. Because he doesn't want anyone else. Because behind those earnest, hazel eyes and guarded smile is someone he wants to love for the rest of his life if only she would find it in herself to let him.

And he hopes to God that she will.

He's broken from his thoughts by the upbeat tempo of the next song but the rest of the concert passes fairly quickly and the next thing he knows the band is saluting the screaming crowd one last time before ducking off the stage for the night. Lights flood the arena, momentarily blinding him as his eyes slowly adjust to the change in brightness. All around, people are making for the exits so he turns to Andy only to find her still squealing away with Kate and Gemma, completely oblivious to his presence. He chuckles at the sight, deciding to let them get it out of their system, and another minute passes before they finally find it in themselves to leave the arena.

The three women chatter excitedly the whole way through the Centre with Sam merely serving to guide them to the exit in humored silence. Not that he minded since it wasn't like he had anything valuable to contribute to their conversation anyway. Somewhere between the concourse and the escalators, Andy's hand had once again found his own, her delicate fingers safely enclosed in his calloused ones, and he marvels at how natural it feels.

Exiting the Centre, they're met by the cool night air and he pulls Andy a little closer when he feels her shiver slightly beside him. A moment later, she produces a camera from her purse and he's given the position of impromptu photographer as she, Kate, and Gemma all pose in front of the giant Maroon 5 poster that's draped over the Centre's entrance. After snapping several pictures, he makes to hand the camera back but it's plucked from his hands by Gemma before he can while Kate nudges him towards Andy. Catching his partner's apologetic look, he shrugs, tossing her a roguish grin as he does, then slings an arm over her shoulders and turns his smile to the camera.

They cross into one of the parking lots where Andy's new friends announce that this is where they parked. After the girls exchanged numbers and reluctant good-byes, Kate and Gemma turn their attention to him.

"You'll take care of her, won't you, Sam?" asks Kate as she gave him a quick hug.

Laughing, he breaks away and slips an arm around his partner's waist, pulling her towards him. "I always do."

The significant looks and raised eyebrows shared between the two departing women isn't lost on him but he shrugs it off as they head off into the night.

His arm still firmly around Andy, he steers them in the direction of his truck, noting the way her head came to rest lightly on his shoulder. They walk in silence for a moment with Sam entertaining the thought that he could get quite used to having her at his side like this before…

"Oh, my God!" she exclaims suddenly, breaking away from him with a slight jump. "I totally forgot to call Traci."

With that, she whips out her phone and dials her friend, effectively ending Sam's daydreaming. Smiling as he listens to her very un-Andy like squeals to Nash, he continues leading them around the block until they finally arrive at his truck.

As he suspected, traffic is horrendous yet again but still considerably lighter than when they arrived so he settles in for the lengthened drive to her apartment while her seemingly minute-by-minute play-by-play of the concert fills his ears.

Nearly 30 minutes later, they're finally nearing their destination and Andy, sensing that this was so, quickly wraps up her storytelling and after profusely assuring Nash that she would call her back in a bit, hangs up the phone.

He slides his gaze over to rest on her for a quick second. "You good? You don't need me to hose you down or anything?" he asks in reference to the fact that she looks about ready to spontaneously combust out of sheer exhilaration.

She shakes her head, her bottom lip caught quite adorably between her teeth, and he can tell that it's taking every ounce of self-control she has to keep her from erupting into a fresh wave of delighted squeals.

It's only when he turns onto her street that she finally trusts herself to speak normally.

"There's construction on my block so you're gonna have to park a block before."

He nods and follows her instructions, pulling over by the park down the street from her apartment.

"What're you doing?" she asks when he unbuckles his seat belt.

"Walking you to your apartment."

"Sam, I'm a big girl. You don't have to— "

"No 'buts,' McNally. I was raised to be a gentleman." He flashes his dimples, effectively silencing her protests before getting out of the truck.

They head down the street, the full moon and street lights offering adequate light for their late stroll. She shivers again and he mentally kicks himself for not bringing a jacket with him today so he simply moves closer to her, the backs of their hands brushing every so often.

"You know, if you really did have plans you didn't have to go with me," she says, kicking a rock along the sidewalk. "I could've gone alone if I had to."

"But I really didn't have plans so I did go with you."

She looks at him, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Oh. But didn't you and Jerry have that paintballing thing with Haight and Ashbury?"

"Oh that." It had started a couple years ago when he and Jerry challenged two of Jerry's fellow D's to a paintball match after a retraining session at the firing range. Word quickly spread and by the end of the week, several other teams of two were created. Since then it's been an ongoing power struggle between the various teams of the 15th Division and while the matches did get fairly intense, they were always all in good fun. "It's tomorrow actually. But Jerry got called into court last minute so I had to duck outta the match. I could've taken Haight and Ashbury on without him though."

She smirks. "Yeah, 'cause you're Jason Bourne."

"And I'm awesome."

A soft chuckle escapes her lips but she says nothing in response to his playful cockiness.

They walk for a while in comfortable silence, the clicks of her heels the only sound filling their ears.

"You have fun tonight?" he asks after a moment.

"Absolutely. It was one of the best nights I've had in a while." She pauses, chewing over her next question. "This is probably a long shot all things considered but did you have fun?"

All things considered, he probably shouldn't have enjoyed himself as much as he did but any excuse to spend time with her was more than worth it. "Yeah," he replies quietly, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. "Yeah, I did. Although I probably could've done without the screaming and the hysterics and my ears being blown out."

The tips of her ears immediately turn an adorable shade of red. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you certainly know how to torch a guy's ego, don't you?"

"Oh, please." He can practically hear her eyes rolling. "Hell would freeze over before I could torch your ego."

"Touche."

She giggles, shaking her head at his antics. "But they were awesome, right?"

"For a boy band. Ow!" he exclaims when her open hand smacks the back of his head. "Okay, yeah, they were good. And considering that I don't generally listen to that stuff that's the best you're gonna get."

"You're impossible."

"I try." A beat. "It was interesting though. Being at a concert again."

"When was the last time you went?"

"Maybe…fifteen years ago. I was a big concert junkie back in the day."

She arches an eyebrow, her interest clearly peaking at this revelation. "Concert junkie Sam Swarek? Now that is a sight I'd pay to see."

"I'd rather you keep your money then."

"Are you kidding?" she continues in a tone that sounded like she had just been told that Christmas had arrived early. "You with a mullet, leather pants, guy liner…I can't think of a better way to blow some cash."

"It was the 80s."

"That line's getting old."

He gives an exaggerated shrug. "I followed the bands. Bought the CDs. Went to concerts dressed like everyone else. I'm sure you can relate to that."

Under his pointed look, she nods her acknowledgement. "I suppose I can. However, Traci and I have been trying to see Maroon 5 for years and we just got around to it now."

"Why's that?"

"They never came to Toronto when they were first starting out. Then Traci had Leo and that put a stopper on her social life. I think she probably had an ulcer when she found out she couldn't come tonight."

"I'm sorry she couldn't make it then," he says although a big part of him really isn't that sorry at all. "Speaking of which, how'd I end up going on this little adventure with you anyhow?"

"I already told you."

"Wasn't exactly paying attention."

She rolls her eyes but answers, "Traci had to watch Leo tonight since her ex is in the hospital. So she told me to find someone else to go with me."

Somehow, they had reached her apartment and they ascend the steps leading to the complex door.

"So, I'm your 'someone else?'" he asks, turning to face her at the top of the steps, a hint of flirtatiousness creeping into his voice.

She considers him for a moment, her hazel eyes dancing, then flashes a shy smile and he swears right then that she's never looked more beautiful. "Yeah. You're my 'someone else.'"

The weight of her admission and everything she can't say out loud just yet falls heavily between them, causing his heart to falter slightly as it does. If that was her way of saying what they'd spent the past year ignoring then he'll gladly accept it.

"Thank you for coming, Sam," she says softly after a beat. "I know you didn't have to."

"Anytime." He nods, ready to bid her good-night, when an idea pops in his head and a mischievous smile starts playing on his lips. "Although I do believe you owe me something for agreeing to let you torch what would've been a very exciting night at the Penny."

"Name your price, Swarek."

He looks down at her, the moonlight casting soft shadows across her face. As bold as he is, he knows that his next move will completely blow up the line he's been stoically maintaining which could very well erase whatever progress they've just made in crossing it. But he's just given himself the perfect excuse so he damns the possible consequences to hell and presses his lips lightly against hers. A small noise of surprise escapes her but she makes no move to push him away, instead bringing her hands up to rest on his stomach. Encouraged by this, he coaxes her mouth open gently with his own and his tongue makes a tentative sweep across her bottom lip. Her taste is intoxicating, like strawberries and chocolate, making it damn near impossible for him to retain the sense to stop before they rush into something they won't be able to turn away from. So he allows himself to explore her heavenly mouth a moment longer, only vaguely aware of her hands snaking up his chest, before pulling away with what little self-control he has left. They exchange quick breaths for several seconds, neither wanting this to be the end of things.

But he has one more request.

"Tomorrow. 1:00. Wear something dark," he murmurs against her lips.

Her eyes flutter open just so and she looks at him through heavy lids. "That was two 'somethings,'" she points out rather breathlessly.

"Well, then I guess you'll just have to figure out how to make us even." He cocks his head with the challenge, daring her to meet him halfway, then steps back and retreats down the steps, the taste of her lips still lingering on his.

"I'm a lousy paintballer." Her teasing voice calls after him.

He turns slightly to look back at her and is pleased when he sees that her slightly dazed expression still hasn't completely lifted.

"You sure you don't wanna ask someone else?"

The question leaves her mouth but he knows that she doesn't really want him to reconsider. A devilish grin tugs at his lips.

"You are my 'someone else.'"

After all, two could play that game.

* * *

><p>AN: Jeez, that was long. Writing parts of this chapter was like pulling teeth and the ending went through a million revisions before I finally thought it was decent enough. I'm not entirely happy with it but I'll let you decide how good it was. Once again, thank you for showing this much enthusiasm for this story. I always like to know that me spending hours and hours typing on my laptop and phone is worth it. If you're reading this, thanks so much for sticking with it. So, drop me a line if you'd be so kind and tell me what you thought. Until next time! :)


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